Page 29 of Alien Mercenary's Wife
"How many crew do you have?" Reese asked, glancing at the doors.
"Seventeen at the moment. We’re getting a little full onboard." He stopped outside a door. "This is you."
The door slid open with a soft pneumatic hiss, revealing a compact but efficiently designed space. Like everything else on the ship, the bunk was built into the wall, sized for Latharian proportions. The desk folded from the opposite wall, and the personal storage cabinet sat beside the entrance to the tiny shower and toilet cubicle.
Reese stepped inside in front of him. "It's bigger than I expected."
He nodded. "Ship's got good bones. The previous owner knew how to use space efficiently."
He stayed by the door, suddenly aware of how small the quarters were. If he stepped inside, they'd be close enough to touch. The thought sent heat curling through his system.
She set her backpack on the desk and tested the bunk with one hand, pressing down to gauge the mattress firmness. The movement made her shirt pull tight across her shoulders, and T'Raal found himself studying the elegant line of her neck and back, which flowed into her hips. Heat pooled south of his belt.
"Water pressure's good," he said, nodding toward the shower cubicle to distract himself. "Ship's systems are automated, but if anything goes wrong, there's a comm panel by the door."
"And if the comm system's down?" She asked over her shoulder.
"Bang on the wall." He pointed to the bulkhead. "I'm right next door. Walls are thin enough that I'll hear you."
"You always put guests next to your quarters?" she asked.
"Not usually, but we’re short on space now,” he lied. There were three other quarters, but they were all too far away for his liking.
She tilted her head as Sparky's voice rose to a volume that carried clearly through the bulkheads.
"And then the murder chicken just looked at me like I'd insulted its mother, which technically I had because I'd called it a feathered psychopath, but in my defense?—"
"Sorry, the crew can be a little loud," T'Raal’s lips quirked at the corners. "You'll get used to it."
"Murder chicken?"
"Sparky's pet. Don't ask." He stepped back from the doorway, giving her space. He wanted to stay, but now that he’d givenher the tour, there was no reason to. "The food dispenser's in the galley if you get hungry. The crew tends to eat together, but you're welcome to join or not, as you prefer."
"And if I prefer not?" She raised her eyebrow in a mild challenge.
"Then you prefer not." He shrugged. "No one here expects anything from you, Captain Payne. You're safe. Rest, heal, figure out what comes next."
“It’s just Reese. I’ve not been a captain for a long time,” she said, exhaustion a shadow in the back of her eyes. The adrenaline from the day's events was wearing off, and the pain medication was starting to take hold.
“Reese.” He nodded and stepped back out of the room. “Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”
"T'Raal." His name on her lips sent warmth through his chest that had nothing to do with physical attraction and everything to do with how she said it. Like she was testing the shape of it, learning how it felt.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For today. For all of this." She gestured around the small quarters. "I know you didn't have to help me."
"Yes, I did." The words came out harder than he'd intended. "Eris asked. That makes it family business. Warborne business."
The sound of chairs scraping against deck plating came from the direction of the galley as the crew finished their meal. Soon they'd be settling into their evening routines, and the ship would grow quiet except for the constant hum of engines and life support.
"Get some sleep," he said, forcing himself to speak before he said anything stupid. "Tomorrow, we figure out the rest."
"The rest?"
"What happens next. Where you want to go. What you need to be safe." He paused, meeting her eyes directly. "What we can do about the people who want you dead."
She nodded, and he caught the flicker of relief. Like she hadn’t really believed they would help her and was just waiting for the other boot to drop.
